


Shy Girls Get Nowhere

by JantoJones



Series: Modest Briefings (The 2nd 100) [60]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:01:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21544921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JantoJones/pseuds/JantoJones
Summary: Written for the Live Journal Section VII HODOWE challenge.Prompt - Sadie Hawkins Day
Series: Modest Briefings (The 2nd 100) [60]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/763410
Kudos: 10





	Shy Girls Get Nowhere

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Live Journal Section VII HODOWE challenge.  
> Prompt - Sadie Hawkins Day

The commissary was packed with ladies of the secretarial pool when Illya Kuryakin entered, on the hunt for his lunch. He glanced at his watch and cursed himself for his bad timing. Although the commissary ran twenty-four hours a day, for the ‘as and when’ benefit of agents and senior staff, many of the support staff had set meal breaks. When at HQ, Illya tried to grab his lunch before 11:30am, or after 2pm. Today he’d managed to arrive at 12:45pm; bang in the middle of the secretarial pool lunch break. 

However, knowing he wouldn’t have much time later, he decided to stay. His customary table in the corner was vacant, which made him slightly happier. After grabbing a turkey sandwich, and a black coffee, Illya sat down to eat. It was only then he fully remembered why he avoided the commissary at this time of day.

At one of the tables towards the centre of the room, four secretaries were eating their lunches. At least, three were eating and one was gazing dreamily in his direction. Illya recognised her as Sophie Denholm, the newest member of the communications secretarial team. He was all too aware that he was an ‘object of desire’ but, unlike his partner, he wasn’t keen on being stared at.

Sophie had fallen under Illya Kuryakin’s spell on her first day at U.N.C.L.E.; a mere two days previously. She had, quite literally bumped into him when she was turning a corner and he was running in the other direction. Sophie had landed right on her keister, with Illya almost on top of her. The files she had been carrying were scattered around them.

The agent had apologised profusely, pulled her to her feet, and gathered up the files. He’d apologised again, mumbling something about being late for a meeting, and darted off. Sophie had watched him go until he disappeared from view. She’d always had a thing for blond men, and she was instantly smitten by this man, whose name she didn’t discover until later.

“Forget it,” Jenny Symonds said, breaking through Sophie’s silent admiration. “The only chance you have with him is if chooses to notice you.”

Sophie sighed with disappointment and turned back to her lunch.

“If you’re looking for long term,” Jenny continued. “An agent is no good anyway. On the other hand, if all you want is a great night of dinner and dancing, I can guarantee that Napoleon Solo will soon be extending an invitation.”

“Does Mr Kuryakin not date much then?” Sophie asked.

“Not as often as Napoleon,” Jilly Morse cut in.

“Yeah, but that would be impossible,” added Doris Springer. “I don’t know where he finds the time.”

“Illya dates on his own terms,” Jenny continued. “Napoleon’s weakness is women, and he seems to think he’s pulling our strings. It’s useful to let him believe that, but we can usually get what we want from him. Illya, on the other hand, is a much harder nut to crack.”

Glancing back towards Illya, Sophie realised she’d made eye contact. His expression was unreadable, and his eyes were steely. Although his body language was giving off huge ‘stay away’ messages, it only served to make Sophie’s heart beat faster. She smiled at him and gave a little wave.

Illya had remembered the young woman as the one he’d knocked over in the corridor but, hadn’t thought much more about her since then. He was therefore quite surprised to find that she was waving at him. Raising his hand, he vaguely returned the wave.

“I’ll be back in a moment,” Sophie told her colleagues.

She went over to Illya’s table and asked if she could sit down. He gestured for her to do so, much to the surprise of the other secretaries.

“Forgive me for being so bold, Mr Kuryakin, but I wondered if I could take you out for dinner this evening.”

The ice in Illya’s eyes seemed to melt, and a broad, friendly smile appeared on face. Most people only got to see a half smile, not that they complained, and a full smile was a rare treat.

“You want to buy me dinner?” he asked.

“I find you attractive and I’ve got better things to do than wait and hope for you to ask me.”

Illya barked out a laugh. This woman was different to the others. She wasn’t content to just stare and sigh. She saw what she wanted and she took it.

“Well, Miss Denolm. I will indeed have dinner with you, and maybe we can also take in a little dancing.”

Sophie couldn’t believe what she was hearing, and it was taking all her willpower not to scream in excitement.

“There is one condition, however,” Illya continued. “I am not so unchivalrous as to let you pay. The date will be on me.”

“If you insist,” Sophie agreed. “If you will excuse me, I must get back to work.”

“I will pick you up at 7:30.”

As Sophie was heading back to her colleagues, who were sitting opened mouthed, Napoleon Solo entered the commissary.

“Ah, Miss Denholm, I’m glad I caught you,” he said, flashing his most disarming smile. “Would you care to join me for dinner this evening?”

“I’m sorry, Mr Solo. I’ve just made a date with Mr Kuryakin.”

Napoleon glared across to Illya, who was now giving off an air of absolute innocence.


End file.
